


Get Out The Way

by gtfomulder



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Bounty Hunter Reader (Star Wars), Bounty Hunters, Din Djarin Needs a Hug, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Good Parent Din Djarin, Grogu | Baby Yoda Needs a Hug, Hurt Din Djarin, Post-Star Wars: Return of the Jedi, Protective Din Djarin, Reader-Insert, Sad Grogu | Baby Yoda, Soft Din Djarin, The Mandalorian (TV) Season 2, The Mandalorian (TV) Spoilers, Touch-Starved Din Djarin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:42:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28497777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gtfomulder/pseuds/gtfomulder
Summary: You were successful as a bounty hunter for a while, and now as a skilled fighter working in an arena. You were craving excitement, until a Mandalorian crosses your path and offers you the opportunity to help bring his kid back and avenge the death of someone you lost long ago. Working with the bucket-head, though, isn't going as smoothly as you thought. Will it all be worth it in the end?
Relationships: Din Djarin/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	1. The Huntress

**Author's Note:**

> This whole story is inspired by a playlist I made so I decided to something with it and write it. Let's see how it goes.

Your lip tears open after the butt end of a weapon collides with your face, and a steady flow of bright red blood begins its path down your chin. The Devaronian, armed with a vibro-ax, snarls at you through stained teeth and spins his blade in his hand. Despite the pain and the, seemingly, winning 200 pound opponent gaining on you, a smile crept on your face. Letting him think he had the upper hand was fun. You hated to ruin his party, but you had a job to do. You stole a quick glance from a familiar face in the roaring crowd and he gave you a nod. Returning the gesture, you finally quit fucking around with your toy and ignited your dual shockwhips, whipping them around your head before they meet the floor with an electric crack. The Devaronian’s face fell as your whips narrowly missed his horn. He raises his weapon and ignites its energy chord, attempting to appear confident and in control of the fight. You almost laugh, _as if that’s going to do anything_ , you say to yourself. He charges at your left side, and you dodge his attack effortlessly. You duck when he attempts to swing around at your head. You roll backwards and swing your whip at his leg. It wraps around his calf and you yank your weapon hard resulting in him landing on the floor with a clunk, your whip shocks him, immediately knocking the Devaronian out cold. The crowd erupts in a mixture of whoops and boos, emitting from humans and miscellaneous species alike. The rings filling the arena signal that you won the round.

Your unignited shockwhips return to your belt and you wipe the blood off your face. Departing from the ring, you try to ignore the incessant, nagging voice that calls your name and light footsteps that trail behind you. Finally deciding to entertain the source of the call, you stop and place you hands on your hips and stare up at the ceiling, huffing in indignation.  
“Darling, y-” he begins, but you interrupt him before he can finish the thought.

“I told you not to call me darling,” you correct him, as if it was a common occurrence, then continue your journey to the bar hardly paying him any attention.

“Right, of course,” your sponsor corrects his previous statement by saying your name and follows you closely. “You were wonderful tonight, as usual. I’m always confident that you’ll make it out on top. But my patrons on the other hand, don’t like when you, how do you say, play with your food. It takes them out of the experience, makes it feel like they’re watching a choreographed show instead of a bloody fight.”

You hop over the bar and reach for the spotchka below and it lands on the counter with a harsh clank. You pour yourself a snort and down it with ease. Your sponsor was a lame excuse for a human being, he only existed to gain profit. And right now, to him, you were his most profitable investment. He was shorter and weaker than you, hence why he kissed your ass every second of every day. He didn’t want to meet the end of your wrath. The measly halo of white hair on his head and leathery, wrinkly skin did not help to make him look more intimidating. He looked to be two seconds away from death every day, so you had no problem walking all over him.

“Gundi, I seriously don’t give a fuck what your patrons want to see. You should consider yourself lucky to have me working for you. I could go back to the guild whenever the hell I want. Don’t push your luck.” You lift your bag from the ground and swing it over your shoulder. You slide over the bar and pat Gundi on the head when you land on the ground. He was like a trained dog at this point, you reward him by not killing him each time he decides not to step on your toes. You extend your hand out to the weasley man and he sets a sachet of credits in your palm. You close your fingers around your profits and hear it cling in your hand. You listen as Gundi sighs dejectedly once you exit the arena.

Admittedly, you really can’t go back to the guild whenever you want. You need to make a viable living, and Karga hasn’t given you a well-paying hunt in months. There’s only one person on Nevarro who he gives the best paying jobs to, and you’d rather not step on that bucket- head’s toes. So you’ve resorted to what would be a bounty hunter’s equivalent to prostitution. It wasn’t your best option, but there were no real challenging opponents on this stupid rock anyways so each fight felt more like a light workout than a real battle. But it was easy money, so you shouldn’t be complaining. Wincing as you entered the bathroom, you inspected the cut on your lip carefully. Maker, how did you let that nerf-herder lay a blow on you at all? You could’ve killed him in your sleep. Maybe you’re just bored. Winning matches without any challenge gets a little repetitive after a while. You need some more excitement in your life. Like in the early days of your bounty hunting career, you landed gigs with ease and collected bounties as if you were made for the job. After a while though, Greef didn’t want to give you anymore high-profile hunts. You didn’t even need your weapons for the bounties Karga started giving you. The excitement was gone as quickly as it came. After applying some bacta to your wound, you left the bathroom, then Gundi’s slimy establishment soon after.

You whipped through the streets outside the arena until a familiar scent assaulted your senses. You followed the scent to a local vendor selling various meats. You toss some credits at the vendor in exchange for some skewers of the meat. As you begin the walk back to your apartment, out of the corner of your eye you spot a small figure sitting in an alleyway. You stop and turn your head towards a little girl clothed in a dirty, torn dress. You approach her carefully and she meets your gaze. You crouch to her level and you can see her eyeing the food you just purchased. She looked to be starved, so you handed her a couple skewers of the meat along with a sachet of credits. The girl’s eyes light up and she smiles widely at you. You stand up and watch as she disappears into the alleyway. You really don’t like kids all that much, but she reminded you of yourself when you were young. You thought maybe a small act of kindness might help her get on her feet; an act of kindness you wished you’d seen when you were her age. You didn’t like to think about life back then, it wasn’t easy and you had to do a lot of things you didn’t want to do. Some of which a little girl should never see. But when you’re desperate, about anything sounds better than an empty stomach and a restless night on the street. At least it made you scrappy, appreciative of what you have now. Despite being a failing bounty hunter and a sellout, you at least have a roof over your head and credits in your pocket.

The trek back to your apartment felt heavier than usual. The weight of an unfamiliar presence plagued your mind, and you couldn’t shake the feeling you were being watched. Whoever it is, you could take them anyways. Maybe it’s the voyeur in you, maybe it’s the part of you that longs for excitement, but you almost welcome the presence. The door leading to your apartment slides open and you step inside. Immediately feeling that same presence, you hesitate to turn on your lights, sensing that they’re watching you from the shadows. You flick your lights on and immediately draw your blaster from your holster and aim it at the figure in the doorway leading to your bedroom. The Mandalorian remains unmoving and unarmed. _What the fuck is he doing here?_

“Put that down,” he commands, breaking the silence. “I’m not here to kill you.”

“I’m not sure I can do that, Mando,” you assert, confidently. You look the man up and down and subtly admire the beskar armor. “I know you’ve been following me. You trying to get rid of your competition, shiny?” Your blaster remains aimed at the beskar clad bounty hunter as he crosses towards you in two steps.

“If I wanted to kill you, you would’ve been dead already,” the Mandalorian remarks, still unarmed and showing no indication of hostility.

Unfortunately, he was right. Knowing his track record, you would’ve been frozen in carbonite before you even made it to your apartment. So now you’re stuck wondering what he could possibly be doing here, if he’s not collecting a bounty.

“Alright, _Mando_ ,” you continue snidely. You return your blaster to its place in your holster and cross into your kitchen. “What could you bucket-head possibly want with little old me.”

“I need your help on a mission. I’m prepared to compensate you substantially for your skills,” he says.

“The mighty Mandalorian needs my help? Wow, I’m flattered, but I don’t work well with others. Trust me, you’d be better off on your own.” You reach for the spotchka in the cabinet over your head. You take a swig from the jug as you brush past the Mandalorian and into your living room. You sink into your couch and set the jug down in front of you on the coffee table.

“I saw you fight tonight at Gundi’s. You’re too good of a hunter to be in that hell-hole,” he says, taking a few steps towards you again, his boots hitting the ground hard with each step.

“If this is your way of trying to butter me up, shiny, then it’s not working. I work there because Karga won’t give me bounties worth my while anymore. The man has no faith in me, so fuck him. I can make twice the amount of credits in a week at Gundi’s than Karga would give me in a month.” You take another long swig from the jug of spotchka and kick your feet onto the coffee table, settling further back into your couch. “And what could I possibly do for you on your mission that no other guild member could?”

“Wraak has my kid, I need your help to kill him and get my kid back.”

The blood drains from your face and your palms become clammy. _That’s why he wanted your help._ _Who else would want Wraak dead as bad as me?_ You thought to yourself. Mando says your name, “You’re a skilled hunter, you’re worth more than whatever Karga gives you. I’ll put in a good word with him if you come with me to get my kid back.”

“I never pegged you as the paternal type. This kid has to be pretty special if Wraak wanted to get his hands on him,” you remarked, attempting to seem together but in reality you’re kind of losing it.

“He’s important to me. I can’t get him back alone. You of all people should know what Wraak does to people who mean something to someone.”

You remained silent. _Kill Wraak. You could kill Wraak_. You don’t even know what to say anymore. You’re just staring at the floor dumbfounded. The perfect opportunity to kill that bastard has just been placed in front of you on a silver platter and you’re hesitating to accept the offer. Why? What’s wrong with you? Is it your pride? Do you want this to be something you do completely on your own? Without the help of a Mandalorian? _Just take it. Accept the offer and kill Wraak._

“I leave tomorrow at 21:00. If you wish to join me, meet me at the razor crest.”  
…

 _I’m not going. It’ll be a waste of time. Mando is a pain in the ass anyways._ You repeat your mantra as you wrap your fists in preparation for your fight tonight. You rest your hands on the sink as you stare at your reflection in the mirror. You’re too distracted, you probably shouldn’t be fighting tonight. But what would you even be doing anyways if you weren’t fighting? Certainly not flying through the galaxy with a Mandalorian in search for his son and in the process gaining justice for an unjust murder. Yeah right, you would never. But what’s stopping you? You’re not afraid of Wraak, you hate him too much. And you’re not afraid of Mando either, he has already made it apparent that he doesn’t want you dead. Why can’t you just suck it up and go on this mission with shiny? Leaving the graffiti-covered bathroom, you attempt to shake those thoughts from your head.

You glare at your opponent when you enter the ring and roll your eyes at the Gamorrean attempting to appear intimidating. Dank Farrik, you _could_ be doing better things right now. _This is a waste of time. Maybe Mando won’t be as big of a pain in the ass as I think he will be_. You’ve been waiting for an opportunity like this for ages. What’s stopping you from leaving this lava rock and blasting Wraak into oblivion? That does sound kinda nice. He took so much from you. You’ve always felt the burden of his existence since your last encounter with him. You thought you’d never see him again. At this point in your life, you just wanted to move on. But you can’t and it kills you every day. It feels like the last piece of the puzzle would be to confront him; make him feel the same pain he made you feel all those years ago. After all these years you've spent running away from your past and trying to forget what hurt you, the opportunity to finally gain closure has just presented itself. But you now have to confront the very thing you’ve been running away from for so long. Maker, there’s nothing more you want than for Wraak to get what’s coming to him. Even if it means having to deal with Mando’s strange presence. He might not be so bad. What’s the worst he can do? It’s not like he could take you down, except he can. But you try not to think about how easily he could kill you given the opportunity. There’s nothing keeping you here anyways, you can do better than fighting Gamorreans in Gundi’s slimy arena.

You’re pulled from your thoughts by the sound of the bell ringing and a feisty Gamorrean charging at you. You roll your eyes again having made up your mind and quickly step to the side and jut your foot out, tripping your opponent. You watch as he lands on his face and you apply pressure to his neck with your foot so he can’t get up. The bell rings signifying you won the round. Wasting no time, you exit the ring and snatch your bag up that was sitting just outside. This time, you don’t stop when Gundi calls your name. You don’t have time to deal with that creature, if you stop now you won’t have time to grab your gear from your apartment before getting to the razor crest.

Holy shit, you’re actually doing this. You’re finally going to kill Wraak after all these years. And with the help of a Mandalorian. This has got to be the weirdest fucking thing that’s happened to you. Well, besides the time you hooked up with that Gungan. But you were drunk so it barely even counts.

…

 _Shit_. You have two minutes to get to the razor crest. You’re practically running to the shipyards now, hoping he didn’t decide to leave early. Aren’t Mandalorians people of their word? Or something like that? You can’t really be bothered learning about those bucket-heads anyways. But there is some sort of appealing mystique to them, why do they keep those helmets on all the time? Are they secretly a really ugly alien species? Are they actually high tech robots under there? But at the same time, you really don’t want to know what Mando looks like. You’re confident that he’d never want to show you his face, and you’re confident that you’d never want to see it. You’d feel like you’d be invading his privacy by stealing a glance at his face. As much as you hate admitting it, you kind of admire and respect Mando. He’s an incredibly skilled hunter and effortlessly strikes fear into complete strangers. It makes you wonder why’d he’d ever choose you, out of all people, to join him on this mission. It’s honestly kinda flattering. He thinks you’re a skilled fighter and that feels good. He’s intimidating and damn good at his job. No wonder Greef gives him all the high paying jobs. But you’d never tell him that to his face, or well, to his helmet. Maybe working with him won’t be so bad. You might get to know the mysterious man who lives in that armor.

Out of breath, you reach the hunk of junk Mando told you to meet him at. He’s standing at the top of the razor crest’s ramp setting down a couple of camtonos inside. His helmet turns to face you and you can only assume he’s making eye contact with you. Not wanting to be the first to speak, you simply nod and adjust your grip on your bag. He returns the nod and points to the pile of camtonos sitting outside the ship, indicating that he wants you to load them up.

“We leave once you get those in the hull,” he states simply. He turns and disappears into the crest. _Welcome aboard_ , you tell yourself as you begin grabbing camtonos and stacking them in the hull of the razor crest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter was a little short! I didn't have a whole lot of special stuff planned for the first chapter but I'm hoping the next ones are a lot meatier.


	2. You're A Bounty Hunter, Start Acting Like It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mando and Reader continue on their journey to obtain the Child.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay!! Finally a new chapter!!! I worked really hard on this one so I hope you all like it. There's lots of action in this one and good some good banter hehe. Enjoy!

This had to have been the worst fucking idea you’ve ever had in your life, and you’ve done some pretty dumb shit. Metal head went out of his way to ask for your help, and won’t even let you do anything. Flight check? No, you’re “not the co-pilot.” Hyperspace coordinates? Nope, “I didn’t hire you to punch in numbers.” Recalibrate the distributors? “I don’t need your help.” Well, for someone who was very eager to get your help on this mission, he really hates letting you help with virtually anything. You feel useless. You’ve scrubbed your blasters at least four times since entering hyperspace. You don’t think they were even this shiny when you bought them. No amount of credits in the republic could be worth this. Maker, you’ve not even left hyperspace and you’re already wanting to wring out his neck. He’s always so unnervingly quiet. You can never tell what he’s thinking or when he’s looking at you. You know he’s there and that he must think and feel like you do, but he might as well be a moving statue.

“Dank farrik,” you curse to yourself after you accidentally nick your finger on a jagged edge of your blaster. You exhale, trying to keep yourself collected, and get up off of one of the crates you were sitting on in the hull of the ship. Crossing to the other side of the hull, you open the compartment that holds the first aid kit so you can address your wound. As you dig through the kit for the bandages, you try to ignore the sound of boots descending the ladder. The footsteps grow louder and it takes everything in you to not tell Mando to go fuck off somewhere else and stop micromanaging everything you do. That’s another thing, ever since you stepped foot on this ship, he double or triple checks everything you do. He checked the shipyards at least five times to make sure you brought all the camtonos inside the crest. It’s been driving you up a wall. He gave you the impression that he had complete faith in you and your abilities, but won’t let you do anything without him checking up on you.

“What are you doing?” he asks, simply. There’s no anger in his voice, he’s not accusing you or anything. He seems to be asking out of pure curiosity.

“Nothing. It’s not important,” you dismiss him with a wave of your hand as you’re still digging through the first aid kit for just one bandage to wrap your finger in. “Where the _fuck_ is it?” you hiss under your breath. Mando is still standing by you, and it’s kind of weirding you out. What does he want? Is he laughing at you? Does he find your current state pitiful; bloody hand, frustrated tone, and desperate searching? You can’t understand a single fucking thing about him with that stupid helmet on and it kills you. You finally slam your hand on the edge of the first aid kit and glare up at the helmet that’s been fixed on you for the past two minutes. “May I help you with something?” Your tone is sharp enough to pierce the beskar.

“It looks like you need my help more than I need yours.” Maker, is that why he’s hovering? Why didn’t he just fucking say that in the first place! He makes everything so unnecessarily difficult for no reason. Why can’t he make up his mind on whether he wants you to not do anything or help you with everything? Before you can reply snarkily to his answer, he reaches above your head and into the compartment that held the first aid kit. He digs through it for a moment, then pulls out a box full of bandages. You can’t see his face, but you’re sure he’s smiling smugly underneath his helmet. You wish you could wipe that smile off of his face with the cold, metal floor of the ship. He takes a few steps backwards before turning towards the ladder leading to the cockpit.

“We should be dropping out of hyperspace in about two days, I suggest you get some sleep while you can,” Mando turns to you to say before climbing up the ladder and disappearing above you. Sighing in defeat, you close the first aid kit shut and stuff it back into the compartment above your head, the box of bandages following shortly. He makes you feel so damn stupid. You’re capable, and he is fully aware of that fact. But he has absolutely no faith in you. Why would he hire you if he didn’t trust you? _Have I even given him a reason to trust me?_ You think to yourself. Dank Farrik. You used to work for Wraak. You used to work for the man who just kidnapped his kid. He must think you still have some weird devotion to him. But can you blame him? All of Wraak’s minions have an obscene devotion to him that’s cult-like. But you don’t, especially after what he did. You want to see him suffer. But you’re not so sure that shiny knows that. Why would he trust you? You haven’t done anything to prove that you deserve his respect. What are you supposed to do? Kiss his ass and tell him how great he is? You won’t stoop that low for any man. No, not until he starts treating you like an equal. But you don’t think you both will get anything done if you don’t learn to trust each other, and you’re not so sure how you can fix that. You’re beginning to feel like shouldn’t have gone on this mission. Maybe you should just take up Mando’s advice and get some rest.

…

The sound of boots descending a ladder wakes you and you groan. Realizing the position that you settled in left a dull ache in your lower back, you arch your spine hearing it crack under the pressure. The pain in your lower back immediately puts you in a sour mood. Maker, with that armor it’d be a miracle if he could infiltrate Wraak’s base without alerting all of his men and the rest of the galaxy. He must’ve realized that he woke you up because he’s standing at the bottom of the ladder waiting to see if you’ll say something to him. Or at least you think that’s why he’s standing there. Anything’s possible when that helmet is on. He crosses to the other side of the hull where his cot is concealed.

“Oh, are you going to bed? Fantastic. Good for you, bucket-head. At least one of us can get some sleep around here,” you snide sarcastically. You stand up from your place on the floor and brush past Mando and up the ladder leading to the cockpit. As you climb, you hear the door leading to the cot slide open then promptly closed. You shut yourself in the cockpit, lit only by the control panel and the blue ambiance of hyperspace, and curse as you kick the side of the pilots chair in frustration. Maybe you’re just cranky from the lack of sleep, maybe you’re tired of Mando being the elusive womp-rat that he is. But you’re really feeling like a complete and utter idiot for taking this job. What made you think you could work alongside someone like him? Or work with anyone, for that matter. In all your years of bounty hunting, you never worked with someone else to obtain a bounty. You know what you’re doing, you don’t need some pompous asshole telling you where to go and what to do. You wouldn’t have made it so far in the guild if you weren’t capable. You probably could’ve killed Wraak without Mando’s help. Who gives a shit if he thinks you’re a skilled hunter? As flattering as it may be that a Mandalorian is impressed by your skills, you’re still stronger on your own. If you didn’t have to sell your ship, you could’ve made it to Wraak’s base faster than this garbage dump he considers a gunship. Glancing at the array of controls in front of you, something catches your eye, or rather the lack of something catches your eye. The knob that controls the auxiliary thrusters is missing. Finding it odd that someone as thorough as Mando could misplace something like that, you decide that instead of moping around you could go find it instead. A distraction would do you good, hell, maybe he might finally think you’re useful. You check the seat of the pilot’s chair for the knob along with the passenger seats, but they all were empty. You scanned the floor quickly, still not seeing any sign of it. You turn towards the control panel then take a few steps back so you’re able to get a wider view of the cockpit. Your eyes scanned the small space from corner to corner, the ship humming as it traversed through hyperspace, finally, your eye caught something laying underneath the control panel. You get down on your hands and knees and crawl underneath the panel. Reaching for the silver orb, you grin once you grab it. But like the idiot you are, you forget that you’re crouching for a reason, and attempt to stand up quickly. You’re reminded of your position in the cockpit when your head meets the edge of the control panel with a loud thud, forcing your chin into your chest awkwardly.

“ _OW!”_ you shout in pain. “FUCK!” You can hear your voice carry through the tiny space you’ve been occupying, and you lean back till your ass hits the floor. You wince as you nurse the growing bump on the back of your head. You were too preoccupied with your new head injury, that you didn’t hear the approaching footsteps up the ladder and the door to the cockpit hiss open.

“What did you do?” Mando’s modulated voice calls when he enters.

“Oh I made cookies, you want some?” you replied feigning a perky disposition, you crane your neck behind you to look up at the armored man. The helmet tilts in a way that can only mean _“Really? Are you kidding me?”_ and you continue, “I hit my head, what does it look like, smartass.”

He extends a hand to help you up, and you wave him off and use the pilots chair as leverage to stand up instead; you remain nursing the back of your head with the hand that’s still holding that stupid silver ball. You huff in vexation once you get back on your feet and glare up at Mando’s stupidly covered face. _Even if I could see your face, it would still be a stupid face,_ you think to yourself. You reach over to the lever to put the knob back where it belonged when Mando suddenly and harshly grabs your wrist. He stares at your hand for a moment as he holds your wrist in a death grip. You wince at the offending pressure and try to jerk away from his hold on you.

“Don’t touch my ship,” he barks, then he rips the small orb from your hand and tucks it somewhere in his utility belt. That’s the most emotion you’ve gotten from him since you met him, and it’s over a stupid silver ball? You gape at him, angrily, and he turns to leave the cockpit but you stop him. “What the hell is wrong with you? You went out of your fucking way to hire me for this mission, you haven’t let me do anything to help you at all, and now you’re mad at me for a stupid little knob? Why can’t you just trust me?”

“I do trust you,” he replies, turning around to face you, and suddenly more composed than you are.

“That’s a load of Bantha shit,” you snap, crossing your arms over your chest. He suddenly crosses to you in only two strides and the helmet stares down at you. From this angle, your height difference is even more palpable.

“I hired you to help me get my kid back and kill Wraak,” he finally asserts, his finger poking the top of your sternum and his helmet only a few inches from your face. “That’s all. Nothing more, nothing less. You’re not a co-pilot, you’re not an engineer, you’re a bounty hunter. Start acting like it.” His tone pierced your skull and replaced the sharp pain nestled in the back of your head. Storming off in a cloud of anger and frustration he turns and exits the cockpit, smacking the controls to the door and you watch as it hisses shut. He stomps down the ladder and you feel like punching yourself in the face. _I’m an idiot._ Of course, he hired you for your skills. He doesn’t need a fucking co-pilot or an engineer. He needs another bounty hunter. _Stupid, stupid, stupid._ You don’t know why, but him expressing disappointment in you stings. In thinking he had no faith in you, you realized that in actuality you had no faith in him. _I should apologize to him. Yelling at him got me no where._ If you’re going to work with him you need to start tolerating each other. Mando is a blunt person. Whatever he says, is exactly what he means. There’s no guessing with him, and you’re not used to that. There’s always an ulterior motive with other people; a hidden clause you didn’t sign up for. But for someone as secretive as he is, he somehow manages to be completely honest with his words. And you’re an idiot for thinking he meant anything other than exactly what he said. You should apologize.

…

It’s been two days and you haven’t apologized. You haven’t even said a word to each other since the argument in the cockpit. You hope he doesn’t think you’re cowardice for not apologizing yet; you’re not even sure if he expects an apology. If he’s anything, he’s a man of few words, so maybe if you don’t say anything to him everything will be fine. Right? That’s going to be the plan, you’re going to ignore him unless it’s life or death. It’s not like you’ll need to be having any in-depth conversations about anything. This is strictly a business endeavor, nothing more, nothing less. You’re pulled from your thoughts when Mando approaches you and sits on a crate across from you in the hull. He pulls what looks like a bounty puck from his pocket and flicks it on. The face projected is familiar, it takes you a few moments to process who exactly it is. Once it clicks, you look up at him in confusion; your brow furrowed and you silently shrug a “what about it?” in response.

“This is who we’re going to be seeing on Numidian Prime. You know him?” Mando asks as he sets the puck down on a crate that’s nestled in front of you both.

“Well, of course. That’s Brehan, he was Wraak’s right hand man for years. Last I heard he retired and settled in the Mid Rim,” you responded. You were curious as to where Mando was going with this. If there was a bounty on Brehan, you would’ve known about it and took care of it. “But I don’t know if I can recall there being a bounty on his head.”

“There’s not,” he states simply. You tilt your head and raise your brows in surprise.

“Oh?” You lean forward in an attempt to urge him on to elaborate.

“I had Karga program a fake puck. We’re taking this to Numidian Prime and you’re going to show this to him. We want Brehan to think there’s a bounty on his head.”

“Why would we want him to think there’s a bounty on his head?” you ask, your forearms now resting on the tops of your thighs as you lean forward, still not understanding where Mando is going with this.

“He’ll want to get out of it by offering whatever he can. Spice, weapons, credits, but we’re not after his horde. We’re after his security clearances to Wraak’s base,” he iterates. And it all makes sense. Brehan retired about a month ago, and knowing Wraak, he wouldn’t have all new security protocols by now. You hated to admit it, but bucket-head’s plan didn’t sound too bad.

“That’s actually a really solid plan,” you say. Mando nods his head knowingly and leans back against the metal wall of the hull.

“There’s just one problem,” you continue. His helmet tilts towards you and he crosses his arms over his armored chest. “Brehan is still staunchly loyal to Wraak. If we show up asking for his security clearances, he’ll warn Wraak of our arrival then we’ll lose our only advantage on him. Wraak has numbers, we have the element of surprise. We could lose that by approaching Brehan.”

Mando leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees. His gloved hands lace together and you can only assume he’s deep in thought. You’re sure if you listened carefully enough, you could hear the gears in his head turning.

“Okay, I know what to do,” he says after a few pensive moments. He leans closer to you and explains the plan in further detail. You listen intently, digesting all the information. As annoying as he may be, he’s good at what he does. You both spent the rest of the trip in hyperspace detailing your course of action and all possible outcomes. There’s going to be a massive risk with this mission, but you’ve both surveyed all your options, and this is most likely your best one. The flashing of red lights and the sudden sound of rapid beeping brings you both back and Mando makes his way to the cockpit as the ship drops out of hyperspace. While he’s up there, you take the time to inventory all of your gear and make sure you have everything you could possibly need. You have extra power cells for your blasters for security, the mechanism of your shockwhips are in tact, your vibro daggers are stashed in your belt and various other hiding places. You feel secure that you’re well equipped for whatever is thrown at you and shiny. Deciding to join Mando in the cockpit, you put on the rest of your gear. You slip your hands into your maroon leather gloves, then shrug on your black trenchcoat before putting on your black, flat rim gambler hat on your head. It feels good to be back in your old getup again. You climb up the ladder and palm the controls watching as the doors part open with a mechanical hiss and you can see Numidian Prime through the transparisteel. The lush green planet was exactly where you’d expect Brehan to go; full of gambling, spice, and the seediest company in the galaxy. Brehan was cold blooded. He hated icy atmospheres and warm personalities. He needed to retire someplace full of soulless reptiles who wanted to hide from the same authorities he’s been hiding from. And what better place for a soulless reptile to thrive than the jungles of Numidian Prime? 

“I’m prepping the landing array,” Mando says, flicking various switches on and pressing buttons above his head. “I’m gonna try and land on the outskirts so we can avoid alerting Brehan of our arrival. Strap in.” 

You nod in understanding and take a seat to his right, watching as the ship enters the foggy atmosphere of the planet. The swamp trees stretched as far as the eye could see, nothing but green for miles and miles. The thick trees tangled with vines shifted as the ship approached a small clearing and you saw birds swarm above the branches from the sudden movement caused by the crest. Mando sets the ship down carefully between two massive swamp trees. The engines hum as they power down and you can hear the crest hiss and whirr as it settles. You follow Mando out of the cockpit and to the hull of the ship and wait with him as he grabs his gear, which doesn’t take long cause he is seemingly always prepared for action. Once he grabs his rifle, he presses a button and the side of the hull folds open. You step down with him and stare up at the lush greenery above your head. The various species of birds whistle and call throughout the jungle and you and Mando begin the trek to the compound Brehan is hiding at. You’re not sure why, but you feel awkward. Mando seems completely comfortable in silence, avoiding the winding roots at his feet and brushing imposing vines out of his way. But you feel strange in the silence, even though you vowed that you wouldn’t speak to him again unless it was completely necessary. Yet you have this strange urge to spark conversation, but you don’t peg Shiny as the kind to engage in small talk. So you remain on his tail in silence. As you both walk through the swampy jungle of Numidian Prime, you begin to pay attention to the cacophony of insects chirping and birds cawing as your boots squish into the soft soil with each step. It’s meditative out here, humid as all hell, but it’s beautiful. You could see yourself settling somewhere lush like this place. If you ever settle. You’re restless by nature. Always craving action and feeling incomplete without it. As much as you _love_ punching idiots in Gundi’s arena, it doesn’t compare to hunting down bounties all over the galaxy. A stray tree root catches your foot and you’re snapped from your thoughts when you stumble into Mando. He loses his footing on the root he was stepping on and falls helmet first into the ground. You managed to find your footing before you had the chance to be taken down with him, and you can’t help but laugh at him. You clasp your hand over your mouth, not intending to make fun of him and hoping he didn’t notice. He pushes up off of the ground, his helmet now sporting a layer of mud over the front, and settles onto his knees as he attempts to wipe off the mud that’s obstructing his view with his forearm. You pray he doesn’t notice how hard you’re trying to hold in your laughter. He’s so stoic and unmoving, that seeing anyone as secure as he is tumbling down into a pile of mud makes you feel so much better about yourself.

“Quit laughing,” he barks, finally getting up on his feet and turning around to continue on his path to the compound. Was Mando...pouting? No way, not _the_ Mandalorian. He was embarrassed. You know he was. And it’s absolutely hilarious to see him storm off like a child.

“Aww, is the big bad Mandalorian upset?” you tease, trying your best to hold in your giggles. You hear him sigh under his helmet and he balls his fists in frustration. You wish you could see his face and how angry he is right now.

“Is Mando upset he got his armor dirty? Hm?” you coo mockingly.

“Enough,” he says sternly, his fists balled tightly at his sides. You should stop. Putting him in a bad mood won’t get either of you anywhere, but stars, is it fun.

“Blast, you know what would make this better?” you wait for his response, but he remains silent, steadily walking ahead of you. “If your kid were here to see how you look right--” but before you can finish your next taunt, Mando stops dead in his tracks swiftly drawing his vibro dagger from his utility belt. Reversing his grip, he grabs your shoulder and presses you up against the nearest tree; his dagger just inches from your throat.

“Was that supposed to be funny?” he asks, his tone bitter. His forearm pressed firmly against your sternum and his other arm held on tightly to his vibro dagger. You’re trying your best not to seem absolutely fucking terrified. Your hat has practically been pushed off of your head, the only thing holding it up being the resisting pressure of the tree against your back. You swallow hard, your gaze switching between the dagger and his helmet. Maybe if you don’t say anything at all he won’t be as mad. Silence is better. Karabast, you shouldn’t have said anything. He must have a sore spot with this kid.

“Do I have to repeat myself?” he tests, breaking the tense silence. You can’t see his face, but there’s no guessing that he’s staring into your soul right now. You can feel his eyes burning into you and it makes you shift uncomfortably under his hold.

“N-no,” you finally admit. “No. I’m--” you sigh “--I’m sorry.”

And with that he releases you, sheathing his blade back into his utility belt. He turns away from you and continues on his path as if he didn’t just hold a knife to your throat just moments ago. You’ve learned your lesson: do not joke about Mando’s kid ever again. Never, ever again. He just might kill you over it. You decide to focus instead on the path ahead, never daring to avert your gaze from the sprawling roots at your feet. Yes, this was better. You don’t have to deal with the disappointment that is yourself. You’d think that someone like him could handle that kind of taunting; it was childish and incendiary. He’s above that kind of behavior and you were just attempting to be annoying. You didn’t think your words would’ve actually snuck its way under that beskar. He’s experienced worse people, has probably heard worse things than what you said. So why did he get so frustrated so fast? That kid must mean more to him than you initially thought. You stop when you see him raise his fist in your peripheral, signalling you to halt. You look up at him and can see his helmet raise up towards the sky to assess the rocky cliff that you’ve both come up upon.

“The compound is just up there,” he says. “We could probably drop down on them from above if we get up on one of these trees.” As soon as he says that the gears in your head start turning. Assessing your options, you remember you brought your ascension gun with you. Reaching for the holster around your thigh, you unclasp it and draw out your gun.

“I could get us both up there with my jet pack--” he pauses once he hears you fire your ascension gun, aiming it at the thickest branch of the tree to your right, it wraps around it and grapples the bark. “Hey! What are you doing?”

“Meet ya there, Shiny,” you say as you ascend the tree with a mechanical whirr. You make it to the branch and detach your gun, tucking it back in your holster. When you have a steady footing, you look down at Mando who is shaking his head with his hands on his hips. He presses a button on his gauntlet, igniting his jet pack, and flies up to the branch. He lands in front of you with ease and shakes his head.

“What? You were taking too long,” you say. “Now, what’s the plan?” Mando sighs and turns towards the end of the branch, he crouches so he can keep his footing and peeks out past the foliage to get a look at the compound on the cliff. He waves at you to join him and you crouch down to climb up towards him. Once you’re by his side, he peels back some of the foliage so you can get a better look at the top of the cliff. There are about three freighters and two gunships that are landed there. There was only one you recognized. The YV-865. You used to pilot those all the time when you worked for Wraak. That ship had to be Brehan’s. Mando lifts his finger and points to a moss-covered cavern that had four armed Weequays guarding it.

“Brehan’s in there,” Mando says. “We have to _quietly_ take out those Weequays before we can get in. No blasters. If one goes off, it’ll echo throughout that cave and Brehan will know something’s wrong.” You nod your head and grin. It’ll be the perfect opportunity for you to use your shockwhips.

“Sounds easy enough. I’ll take the ones on the right,” you tell him before you leap to the nearest branch. You stay low once you land, and utilize that same technique as you leap from branch to branch. Eventually, you make it to a vantage point above the two Weequay’s you targeted. You look over and see that Mando made it to a branch about 15 feet away, parallel to you. He makes a gesture to the side of his helmet, indicating to his communicator. You press a button on your wrist, turning your com link on, and look at him expectantly.

 _“We’ll drop down on my signal, okay?”_ you hear him say through the com. You nod your head and do as he says. You watch him and wait for his signal. You adjust one of your gloves, but accidentally press a button on your com link, unknowingly turning it off. You move your gloved hand to one of your whips and take a peek at the guards below you who remain at their positions unalarmed. The second your eyes move back up to look across at Mando, he drops down between the two Weequays he’s targeting.

“Shit,” you say, grabbing one of your shockwhips and dropping down about 30 seconds after Mando does. You can hear Mando grunting as he lands blows on the guards. You bend your knees as you land and kick one of the blasters out of the nearest Weequay’s hands. It lands about 4 feet away from you both. You look back up and the other armed guard glances at it before aiming his blaster at you. Anticipating this, you flick your whip and it wraps around his wrist; his blaster drops as his whole body tenses and yellow volts of electricity crawl around his body. He then tumbles onto the ground unconscious. You look back at the blaster that you kicked out of the other Weequay’s hands and you see him bending down to grab it. You swing your whip at his throat and yank hard. His hands fly to his windpipe trying to relieve the offending pressure as he coughs and gasps, you shock him and he tenses before crumbling to the ground with a groan. You look over at Mando who is still fighting off the two guards. One, situated behind him, has his forearm around Mando’s throat, the other was landing blows to his stomach just underneath the beskar chestplate. You swing your weapon, aiming for the Weequay behind shiny. But your hand slips and your weapon wraps around Mando’s arm instead. You instinctively yank before you had the chance to process where your whip even landed and he falls to the ground. The guards now alarmed by your presence, both reach for their respective blasters. Mando is up on his feet now and aims his gauntlet at one of the guards engaging his whipcord. But you’re doing the same, attempting to incapacitate the guard before they can obtain their blasters. You both aim for the same Weequay and your weapons both reach their target; his whipcord wrapped around the guard’s torso and arms, and your shockwhip around his ankle. By the time you both realize you’ve incapacitated the same Weequay, it’s already too late. The other one has already aimed his blaster and fired. Mando’s pauldron sparked as the bolt met the beskar with a clink. You reel your whip back and it meets the guard’s chest, the shock knocking him out. The dull echo of the blaster shot rings through the cavern and you both look at each other. You’re fucked.

“Get to the ship, I’ll hold them off,” you tell Mando. His chest heaves as the helmet nods and he presses a button on his gauntlet, activating the jet pack, and zips off towards the sky. _I can do this, I can do this. I’ll just talk a lot to try and buy Shiny some more time,_ you attempt to assure yourself. Securing your whips back in your utility belt, you draw your blaster and aim it at the cavern in anticipation. On the bright side, they’re going to come out and see one bounty hunter and four incapacitated Weequays, so they’re going to be under the impression you did this all yourself. Hopefully they’ll feel intimidated without the foreboding presence of a Mandalorian by your side. You begin to hear commotion from inside the cavern; feet shuffling, a cacophony of voices. Soon you see a few humans, more Weequays, some rodians, and none other than Brehan himself emerge from the cavern. All of the men around him were heavily armed, but Brehan appeared to be unarmed. He looked relatively the same since you last saw him, a grey goatee against his olive skin and slicked back grey hair. The only difference was that he looked slightly heavier, he must’ve been focusing less on keeping in shape for Wraak and more on enjoying the amenities life has to offer. His eyes squint and focus on you, they widen once he finally recognized you. A laugh erupts from his wide grin and his hands fly to his slightly protruding belly, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes becoming more defined. 

“Well, I’ll be damned,” he chuckles, his hands shifting to his hips. “I was wondering who was ballsy enough to interrupt my game of sabbac. It sure has been a while, hasn’t it? You still in the guild?”

“You tell me,” you say as you pull the bounty puck from your pocket and flick it on with your thumb. Brehan’s face fell once he recognized what you were holding.

“Now, I’m sure there’s been a misunderstanding. I’m retired. I stopped working for Wraak long ago. Surely we can work something out, hm?” he pleads, subtly. You grin, Mando’s plan just might work.

“Give me the clearances to Wraak’s base and I’ll consider letting you live,” you offer, tucking the puck back into your belt.

“That is just something that I’m not able to do, little lady,” Brehan replied. “Perhaps you would like some spice? Or credits?”

You’re quiet. You simply just want to draw this out as long as possible so Mando has enough time to get back to the ship. So you decide to wait until Brehan continues the negotiations.

“C’mon now, we don’t want this to get ugly. There’s one of you and fifteen of us.”

“I like those odds,” you boasted. Your blaster was still aimed towards the cavern, with no indication that it was going to drop anytime soon. You were at a standoff. They all had their blasters fixed at you, and vice versa. You were waiting for them to make the next move, and they were waiting for you to pull the trigger. _Dank farrik, Shiny, if you don’t get here…_. Your eyes switch back over to Brehan, and the second they do, he moves; breaking into a sprint towards his ship, you aim your blaster at the nearest guard and fire. A rodian grunts as he hits the ground and you make a break for it to find some cover as blaster fire rains down on you. You duck behind some of the crates and peek out over the top of it. You aim for one of the humans and fire at his chest. He cries as he hits the ground. You scan the area for Brehan, and you see the ramp to his ship descend as he begins to approach it. 

“Karabast!” you curse. You aim your blaster in his direction and fire four times, but miss all of your shots. There’s too much blaster fire hitting your direction to get better aim. You lose hope. He’s gonna escape and it’s gonna be your fault. You didn’t hear Mando’s signal, you didn’t drop down in time, you aimed for the wrong Weequay. It’s your fault. It’s all your fault if this mission fails. You won’t get Mando’s son back. You won’t get to avenge her death. You’re going to lose it all. The sound of a mechanic hum from above pulls you from your pity party, and you sigh in relief at the sight of the biggest hunk of junk in the galaxy. Mando made it here with the Razor Crest. He fires, and the bolts from the Crest meet Brehan’s ship, incinerating it on the spot. The blast knocks Brehan back along with some of the guards. Smiling at the intense blaze that's replaced Brehan's ship, you seize the opportunity of this distraction and begin picking off the guards one by one. On your feet now, you make your way around the crates you’ve been crouching behind and aim for the guards. You fire a barrage of shots as you walk sideways towards the end of the shipyard Mando has landed the Razor Crest at. They're still hardly noticed you started firing at them again through all the commotion. The ramp to the Crest descends and Mando wastes no time stepping out and coming to your aid. 

“Took you long enough,” you goad as you dodge blaster fire.

“Really? You’re complaining?” he fumes, blaster bolts clinking as they bounce off his armor and he grunts slightly with each impact.

Before you know it, you both took down all the guards and all that’s left is Brehan who is scrambling to his feet and searching for the nearest escape. The two of you make haste in his direction. By the time you both get to him, he managed to steal a vibro dagger from one of the bodies on the ground and he’s aiming it at the two of you.

“Drop your weapon. We can do this the easy way, or the hard way,” Mando’s modulated voice commands. But Brehan doesn’t crack, his blade remains in his grip. “Drop it.”

This time Brehan listens, the blade hits the soil with a soft thud. As Mando reaches with his free hand to his belt for his binders, Brehan reels back his fist and it collides with the underside of your jaw. You moan in pain as you stumble backwards cradling your face. The pain crawled to your teeth, leaving your mouth tender and sore. Mando knees him in the gut and Brehan doubles over in pain, coughing and groaning. Shiny grabs the sides of Brehan’s head with his gloved hands and headbutts him with the crown of his beskar helmet. You hear a crack and you're sure his nose was broken from the impact; a steady flow of crimson blood begins to flow out of Brehan’s nostrils. Mando restrains him with the binders and leads him harshly to the Razor Crest by the collar. You follow them, still cradling your jaw. Mando throws Brehan into the hull of the Crest and he lands on the floor, a bloody mess.

“Please, don’t kill me. I’ll-I’ll give you whatever you want,” Brehan grovels through bloodstained teeth pitifully from the floor.

You kneel to Brehans level, attempting to appear sympathetic, “Your security clearances are all we want. If you give us that, we’ll let you go.”

Mando’s head swivels in your direction and he says your name, “We didn’t agree to that.” His voice was hushed through the modulator.

You raise your hand, indicating he should be quiet.

“Sound good?” you ask Brehan, extending your hand so you could help him up. His cuffed hands extend up to yours and you take it, your thighs tensing as you lift his weight off of the ground. 

“Give the clearances to Mando then he’ll uncuff you,” you explain to Brehan, to which he nods simply in response. You can tell Shiny has no clue what you’re doing, and he must think you’re an idiot. But you’ve been around Brehan’s kind, you have to let him think he has the upper hand. The cuffs chime as Mando frees Brehan’s wrists from the metal binders. Massaging his wrists, Brehan gives you and the Mandalorian one last incredulous look before beginning his path towards the ramp of the ship. His feet almost meet the ground outside the ship when suddenly your shockwhip wraps around his ankle and you yank him back inside the hull harshly. His chin hits the ground and he’s dragged back inside on his stomach. Once he’s at your feet, you yank him up to your level by his collar and shove him into the carbonite chamber; the back of his skull meets the inside of the chamber with a clunk. Before Brehan can process exactly what’s happening, you smack the controls and an icy steam blankets him. All that’s left of Brehan is a pained expression seemingly etched into stone.

Mando’s helmet is fixed on you; your chest is heaving and your jaw hurts and you’re too pumped with adrenaline to check for any other injuries right now. You almost cost Mando this mission, you can’t even bother to look at him right now. You just want to sleep and forget the events of today. But once you turn away from the carbonite chamber, all you’re met with is Mando’s figure who’s blocking your point of escape.

“You didn’t go on my signal," he snaps, his gruff voice sounding disgruntled. "We could’ve had them completely by surprise if you just dropped down at the same time I did.”

“You think I don’t know that?” you ask accusatorially. “Do you think I was trying to fuck up the mission?”

“I didn’t say that--” Mando defends, his gloved hands raising in a defensive position, but you continue with your argument as if he didn’t just respond to your rhetoric question.

“I did what I could considering the circumstances. We still got the security clearances from Brehan, so I didn’t fail you,” you assure, more-so for yourself than for Mando. You were resourceful back there. And the mission was still successful, despite your fuckup. It could’ve gone so much worse, but you pulled through. And so did Mando, I guess. You both don’t work together very well, but hopefully by the time you get to Wraak’s base on Sriluur, you and Mando will finally tolerate each other enough to work together. The ramp to the Crest closes and you settle down on one of the crates in the hull and begin checking yourself for injuries.

“How’s your jaw?” Mando inquires.

“Shut up,” you snap, not even bothering to look up at Shiny as you address a few scrapes and bruises that cover your body. Dank farrik, this is going to be one long ride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you go!! Chapter 2 is complete :) if you couldn't already tell, this is going to be a slow burn. I can't give you what you all want immediately. So you're stuck with the banter for now ;)


	3. Sabotage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mando and reader butt heads, yet again. At wits end, reader takes matters into her own hands to force Mando to take a break.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just started my spring semester so it might take more time to upload chapters than i'd like :( but i appreciate all the love and support, ty all <3

Your jaw still hurts. And it sure does look like it hurts too. The yellow halo around the purple, black, and blue bruise isn’t easy on the eyes. Who would’ve thought an old geezer like Brehan could’ve done something like that to your face. You’re still upset with Shiny over the way he spoke to you after the mission. You didn’t deserve that kind of treatment, no matter what the circumstances were that surrounded the argument. If it wasn’t for your quick thinking, Brehan would’ve escaped. Mando can be so temperamental, the slightest thing can push him over the edge. You’re tired of walking on eggshells around him so you’ve done your best to not speak to him during the trip through hyperspace. Better to avoid another argument altogether than to unintentionally start one. You’ve practically been alone this entire trip. Not like you’re not used to being alone. You’ve been by yourself for a while now and can make do; you eat by yourself, sleep by yourself, get drunk by yourself. You almost prefer it. There’s no disappointment when you’re alone. No one to tell you you’re not good enough and no one will have to leave. It’s better this way. You can save yourself from more heartbreak when you don’t let anyone near you; because when you don’t let anyone near you, you won’t get that hollow feeling in your chest when they inevitably leave you. So you’ve managed all these years with mindless hookups in alleyways behind cantinas. You’ve had a couple of those guys crawl back for more, but you did what you always did and shut them out. Can’t let someone get to know you, learn to love you, then want to leave you. It makes life more bearable. Surviving is easier than living; do what you need to do to get by, because pleasure is a luxury most cannot afford. You’d rather not waste your time on dreaming for what you can’t attain so instead you settle for what’s accessible, because that’s easy and something you don’t have to try for. It’s black and white and something you don’t have to spend too much time worrying about. You spend too much of your time thinking: what do they mean by that? Do they want to kill me? What if he doesn’t want to sleep with me? Why is he looking at me like that? Are they angry with me...? The times you can escape the thinking and just do are the most precious to you. The freedom of leaving anxious thoughts behind and  _ doing _ without the stress of consequence is something you won’t take for granted. You’re strong, physically. You could take down men twice your size with your bare hands. And you’re adept with a blaster, whip, vibroblade, you name it. Your skills are something you’ve never had to question. Sometimes you get overwhelmed when thrown into intense situations, and thoughts along the lines of  _ “I won’t make it out of here alive,”  _ begin to cross your mind. But then the action begins. And you no longer question it, and just  _ do.  _ That’s the one luxury you can afford.

You start to take notice to the ambiance of hyperspace; the subtle chiming and beeping of the ship, the dull hum as the ship traverses through lightspeed, and the absence of a particular heavily armored presence. Eventually, you gain complete consciousness and your heavy eyes open completely. Your back doesn’t hurt this time, thankfully. You decided to lay down on the floor to rest instead of with your back against one of the crates. You can only assume you’re alone in here, you’ve no clue if Shiny is in the cockpit or his cot, and you don’t really care to check either. You didn’t realize how strenuous this mission would be. Your body hasn’t felt this tired and achy since you hunted for bounties. But, stars, you missed that feeling; sleeping when you can, your body fighting signs of fatigue, always on the move. It made you feel alive. It’s a feeling you couldn’t recreate, and having spent so much time away from that side of your life, it’s been hard to feel that alive again. Until now, as you’re fulfilling a promise you made to yourself so long ago. Even though you’re working with Mr. Hotheaded-Bucket-Face, you’re still happy to be back in action. He’s got maker-given talent, but dank farrik is he a pain in the ass to work with.

Red lights above your head begin to flash and the ship starts to chime. You were confused; a trip from Numidian Prime to Sriluur would take longer than a day. You shouldn’t be dropping out of hyperspace so soon. The door that conceals Mando’s cot slides open and you whip your head towards the disturbance. He slips out and climbs up the ladder to the cockpit before you can even ask him why you’ve dropped out of hyperspace so soon. Deciding to find out where he’s taking you both, you ascend the ladder and enter the already-parted doorway to the cockpit. Through the transparisteel, you fail to recognize the planet you’ve come upon. The way in which he always fails to communicate the most basic things, will never cease to amaze you.

“This isn’t Sriluur, you mind to indulge me as to where you’ve decided to take us?” you inquire, your tone bitter and caustic.

He reaches above his head and flicks various switches, as his right hand remains on one of the toggles that steers the ship.

“I’m stopping on Raxus for a brief layover. We’ll be in and out. I just need to fuel up the ship before I make the jump to Sriluur,” he says directly.

A layover didn’t sound like a bad idea. The ship needed the fuel, and maybe a good once-over. You’d hate it if something internally happened to the ship on Sriluur, especially if you both needed to make a quick escape. You can’t have the Crest suddenly decide to break down on you both if you need it desperately to get you guys out of a tight spot. Plus, maybe you could finally get a shower and some decent sleep on an  _ actual  _ bed while they make repairs to the ship.

“Maybe you should get some work done on the Crest while we’re down there,” you suggest.

“So there’s something wrong with it?” he asks, haughtily. As if your question was pointless because “no one knows this ship like he does.”

“There could be,” you say with a shrug of your shoulders. “But would you rather find out in repairs? Or while we’re trying to run from blaster fire?”

“There’s nothing wrong with the ship,” he says, now sounding slightly upset. “I don’t want to waste more time than we have to on Raxus.”

“It’s just a suggestion. A reasonable one, might I add,” you huff.

Here it is, the bitchy tone, the irrational response, the stubbornness, all the things you’ve been trying to avoid running into. You’re not making an outrageous request, you  _ know  _ a part of him agrees with you. He’s just being a stubborn know-it-all; he has to be right. 

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?” you ask harshly, his helmet remaining fixed on the planetary view outside the transparisteel. 

“I’m not an idiot, this isn’t my first high-profile hunt. I’ve been on hundreds of hunts just like this one. So believe me when I tell you if we have  _ one  _ slip up on Sriluur, Wraak will not hesitate to kill us both,” you thundered. Your tone is suddenly urgent, and frustrated. You  _ need  _ him to understand the severity of these circumstances. “I’ve seen him kill people over less. So unless you  _ didn’t  _ hire me for my intel, you shouldn’t be questioning whether or not my advice is worth taking.”

You turn around sharply and stomp down the ladder as you leave the cockpit. He needed to hear that, as harsh as it was. You don’t care if his feelings are spared or not; he’s a big boy, he can handle it. Even though he sometimes doesn’t act like it. For someone as renowned as he is, he sure doesn’t act like the professional he supposedly is. You’d think someone of his caliber would understand how to handle high stress situations, but he seems to be crumbling under the slightest bit of pressure. You’re not sure how you know, but this doesn’t seem to be Shiny at his best. He might need rest. He can’t infiltrate Wraak’s base if he’s not in the right headspace; there can be no room for error this time. You understand why he’s hesitant to stay on Raxus, you wouldn’t want to leave a vulnerable, helpless child with someone like Wraak. But if you don’t prepare to the fullest, then you’re going to lose everything you’re working for. This is a delicate process, you can’t let Mando’s poor lack of judgement fuck it up. He needs a drink, or a shower, or a good night’s sleep on a bed rather than a cot. He needs some time to straighten out his thoughts so he can actually manage to survive this mission. You’ve been in his shoes before; too emotionally involved in the outcome of a hunt that you begin to lose yourself. You forget to eat, drink, bathe, sleep, even breathe. Then you can’t focus because you’re too tired and you’re body is too weak from the lack of nutrients to fight. He needs a break. And you’re going to have to be the one to force him to take one. You’re gonna have to do something kinda shitty, but it’s the only way to get him to take a break.

You can feel the ship rattle and shake as it enters Raxus’ atmosphere; muffled chimes emanate through the parted doors of the cockpit above. You feel almost insane for actively wanting to sabotage the ship, it’s just going to be  _ so  _ damn satisfying to break something. Even if it’s a small something. This flying garbage pile seems to be more trouble than it’s worth, but he seems to manage with it. Parts of the Crest buzz and whirr as the landing array folds out in preparation to set itself down. The ship clunks as it lands and Mando departs from the cockpit not soon after the ship settles on the ground. The ramp opens revealing the fuel port Mando’s landed in, surrounded by autumnal trees and tanned mountain ranges. Various pit droids twiddled about, engrossed in menial tasks. Mando approached them and tried to get their attention, but they seemed too preoccupied to really care about what shiny was doing. That seemed like it was going to take a while, so now’s your chance. You cross to the ladder and climb up to the upper level, where the generator room is located. You need to target something small enough he wouldn’t notice, but big enough that the ship wouldn’t be able to take off without it. You eye the various control panels and piping as you enter the generator room. You chew your bottom lip, using all of your brain power to remember the engineering skills you have. After your third scan, you remember that the main fuel line is small, yet vital, and Mando won’t notice that it’s been compromised until he powers up the engines. You bring your elbow down hard against a pipe and it budges slightly. You realize you’ll need more leverage, so you look above your head and grab hold of thicker, more stable pipes. You pull yourself up, and bring your foot down hard against the pipe with a clank. After repeating that a few times, it finally breaks. Fuel begins leaking out all over the floor from the broken pipe and you smile at your successful attempt at a sabotage. You depart from the generator room and down to the hull; you take a peek outside pleased to see Mando is still barking orders at the pit droids. Now, all that’s left to do is sit back, and wait for your plan to come to fruition. Mando stomps back up the ramp, clearly frustrated (he has no patience for droids), and tosses a sachet of credits in your lap once he’s across from you in the hull.

“I need you to go into town and buy some more supplies,” he directs before immediately turning away towards the ladder.

“Hold on,” you say, stopping him in his tracks; your objection causes him to turn around in your direction. “Since when am I your bitch? I’m not here to run errands for you.”

“You want to make yourself useful, go ahead,” he says, sounding testy. “Or you can get off my ship right now and I can leave you here.”

Seriously? He’s being this uptight, for what? To prove a point? To get you out of the ship and out of his hair? That is, if he even has hair. Part of you  _ does  _ feel bad for him. He’s lost his son and he just wants to get him back. Maybe you shouldn’t have sabotaged the ship….Nah, he’s  _ definitely _ in need of a break. This motherfucker has been walking around with a stick so far up his ass it’s now making its way up his throat. And now he has the  _ audacity  _ to start treating you like a servant after he’s made it clear millions of times how:  _ “you’re a bounty hunter,”  _ and how you should _ “start acting like it.”  _ You want to scream. Or punch him. Maybe a combination of both. You just want it out of your system.

“Fuck you, Mando. Go find someone’s dick, and choke on it,” you spat, your tone furious and bitter. It was the most you could muster and the best words you could find. You turn around and storm off down the ramp and past the stumbling pit droids. Hopefully he doesn’t notice the compromised fuel line while you’re gone, but at this point you don’t care. You need to get away from that nerf-herder right now; if you were to spend one more minute with him, his head might end up rolling out of the ship.

…

You wander the streets of this small village for far too long. Partially to blow off some steam, and partially to waste time. You wanted to bother him and get under his skin, and taking your time right now would accomplish just that. You check every vendor you pass for the necessary items you were tasked with acquiring, pondering their purchase with a meticulous eye. You wandered into expensive boutiques and browsed their inventories, you stared at shop windows and asked for prices that you wouldn’t need because you weren’t going to buy anything. But you knew you’d have to go back soon, or else Mando might actually leave without you. So you made your final purchases and walked back to the Crest where a certain bounty hunter was probably waiting impatiently for your return. You hope he’s angry and upset that you took this long; you want to get back to him seething in anger and ready to strike something with his fists. Perhaps you’re being a little bit petty, you don’t  _ really _ want to upset someone like him. But Maker is it  _ fun.  _ Reminds you that you at least have a semblance of power over him when it feels like he’s in control of almost every aspect of this mission. You just want to be able to have this  _ one  _ thing over him, then you’ll be fine once you get to Sriluur to obtain his kid. You have no problems taking orders from him, but when he begins to act all high and mighty over you and pretends that your input isn’t valuable, you take a bit of an issue with that. 

As you approach the fuel port, pit droids are taking out various fuel lines connected to the ship and struggling to roll them back up onto their stands. The ramp is still open, but you don’t see Bucket head anywhere in the hull yet. You walk up the ramp and into the Crest, tossing the bag of supplies on the ground by some crates. Figuring Mando is up in the cockpit, you huff in frustration then ascend the ladder and approach the cockpit’s doors. The doors whoosh open and, lo and behold, Mando is sitting in the pilot’s chair and seems to have barely cared that you entered the cockpit. He’s pressing various buttons on the control panel, obviously engrossed in whatever task he’s doing. You’re tuned into the routine by now, so you take the seat to his right and strap in. 

“Next stop, Sriluur,” Mando says as he begins to power up the ship, pressing buttons and pushing a lever. The Crest powers up, then promptly powers back down and sputters. Mando’s hands lift from the control panel in a defensive “what the hell did I do?” position. He flicks a few switches, that do nothing, then glances at the screen that logs the fuel reserves.

“What? How is that possible? I just fueled up the ship,” Mando exclaims, as you hear him huff out through the modulator. He stands up from the pilots chair and exits the cockpit to go to, you can only assume, the generator room. Your suspicions are confirmed once you hear him let out a slew of curses from the other room. He stomps back into the cockpit, seething with anger underneath his helmet.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, pretending to be oblivious to the issue at hand.

“The main fuel line has been compromised,” he tells you, his helmet remaining fixed on you for a beat. “One of those droids must have messed with it.”

“Probably,” you say with a shrug. “How big of a fix will it be?”

“It’ll take a day, maybe, at most. Unless those droids are good at fixing their mistakes,” he remarks bitterly, obviously bothered by the delay. “In the mean time, I’ll find us a place to sleep for the night.” He looks you up and down. “You need a shower.”

You glare at him,  _ as if I don’t fucking know that already dipshit.  _

“And you need a fucking nap,” you spat bitterly, with your arms crossed over your chest. His helmet fixates on you for a minute before he turns to leave the cockpit, his cape fluttering behind him. You try to bite back a laugh, very proud of your work.

…

You and Shiny walk towards the city of Raxulon, in search of cheap lodging for the two of you to stay in tonight while the pit droids work on the ship. He’s silent, like always, walking in front of you through a small neighborhood on the outskirts of a rural village. There are children playing in the street, kicking balls and hitting each other with sticks pretending they were vibro blades. Fruit stands were occupied by elderly vendors, trying to pawn off their slightly rotted produce to any person who was too inept to understand their poor quality. It was a quiet, quaint little village; they didn’t seem too accustomed to someone like Mando walking through the streets, heavily armored and heavily armed. Some parents shielded their children away from your beskar clad counterpart, not wanting to cause any trouble. One of the children’s balls rolls in Shiny’s direction, stopping once it collides with his ankle. The kid quits jogging after it and freezes in his tracks, clearly petrified of him. Mando bends down and lifts up the ball, tossing it back to the kid.

“Shulu chess ko bukee. Oolaee safa lesh,” he says, the helmet nodding in the kids’ direction. They smile and run away, giggling and kicking the ball in front of them. The two of you continue on your stroll to the nearest Inn, Mando hardly acknowledging the simple act of kindness he just displayed. You weren’t used to seeing that, from him especially. That’s what makes him so confusing to you; one minute he’ll blow up at the smallest inconvenience, storming off like a child, and the next he’s pulling shit like this where he’s being patient and kind towards these children he doesn’t even know. It makes you wonder what changes in him through those lapses. What is it that penetrates that beskar? There’s something he lets in there; something small enough to wriggle under his sleeve and curl up without being detected, but it’s something he wouldn’t dare cuff his undershirt to reveal what it is. Especially to you. No, definitely not you. What reason would he have to reveal to you a vulnerable part of himself? What makes you any different than all the other bounty hunters he’s come across? He only chose you because you’re of use to him. Once this all blows over and Wraak is dead and he has his kid back, it’s going to be like this never happened and you both will continue on living your lives. Shiny with his son, and you...on Nevarro alone. He’ll have his clan of two, you think that’s what Mandalorians call it, and you’ll be on that maker-forsaken planet continuing to make credits at Gundi’s for...what exactly? You’re still not sure. Truth is, you haven’t been sure in a long time and you’re too afraid to admit it. If you could, you would go back to hunting bounties, traversing the galaxy, earning your place. But that didn’t work out for you, as most things tend to. It’s been harder to find your place in all of this when you don’t really understand who you are anymore.

Mando stops in front of a modest building that reads “Inn” in Aurebesh. The windows are parted open and the curtains are fluttering in the wind. You and Shiny enter together, there’s a tired woman slouched behind a counter, her blonde hair pulled back lazily into a ponytail. She’s swiping mindlessly on her datapad, then once she notices the two of you enter, she glances up at you both and adjusts her posture to seem more welcoming.

“I need two rooms,” Mando says to her once you both reach the counter. She nods her head then begins typing into the datapad. Her lips purse in thought and her brow raises slightly.

“I’m afraid we only have one room left for tonight,” she admits, seemingly apologetic. Shiny sighs through the modulator, his shoulders falling slightly.

“That’s fine. How many beds?” he asks her. She glances down quickly at her datapad then back up at the helmet.

“This room is a single, so it only has one bed, I’m afraid.” She glances between the two of you, trying to gauge a reaction based off of your expression as opposed to Mando’s faceless helmet. You huff, resting your hands on your hips, and wait for Shiny’s response as you glare at him expectantly. At this point, you’ll sleep on the floor if it means you get to take a shower, but Mando seems like the kind who’d want his own space to occupy while he removes his armor and bathes.

“Where’s the nearest Inn?” he inquires. You can tell he’s beginning to lose his patience, but he won’t show it to the nice lady behind the counter.

“We’re the only Inn here in this village. The nearest city is Raxulon, but it’d be a day’s walk from here,” she informs the two of you. There’s no time to walk all the way to Raxulon, the ship would be done with repairs by the time you even get there. He looks to you, as if to ask for your input.  
“I seriously don’t give a shit, I’ll sleep on the floor. Just take it, for fuck’s sake,” you tell him impatiently, gesturing to the woman behind the counter. The helmet nods in her direction and he pulls credits from his belt, plopping them onto the counter. She sets the key onto the counter, directing the two of you to your room, and Mando snatches it up indignantly paying no mind to the directions. He stomps off down the hall, you following behind him. It almost upsets you how annoyed he is, as if he doesn’t even trust you enough for him to be in another room without his armor on while he’s bathing. You would never actively _try_ and look at him, as that’s a complete and total invasion of his privacy. You’re not sure what exactly that equivalent would be for you, but you’d imagine it would be like if he lifted up your top to look at your tits. You didn’t consent to that, you weren’t okay with that, yet he did it and now you’re uncomfortable that he’s seen a part of yourself you didn’t want him seeing. Does he really think you’d do that to him? Does he think you’d violate him like that? If so, fuck him. You’re risking your life on this mission, considering you know exactly what Wraak is capable of, he should be grateful you even agreed to come here at all.

He stops in front of a door, unlocking it with the key, and you watch as it slides open. Mando steps inside, barely paying you any mind as you follow him in. The room was smaller than you expected, there was one tiny armchair shoved into a corner adjacent to the queen sized bed. The armchair was far too small for either of you to even consider sleeping in, but the bed looked like heaven in comparison to the hard, metal floor of the Crest that you’ve been sleeping on the past few days. He tosses his rifle onto the bed and wastes no time going to the windows and closing the blinds, so no one could see inside the room. He brushes past you and into the bathroom, locking himself inside without saying a word to you. You roll your eyes and sit on the edge of the bed, un-fastening your boots and pulling them off of your feet. You flex your toes once your boot is off, trying to regain some mobility after not having taken them out of these shoes for days on end. The sound of rushing water can be heard through the door of the fresher, and you can only assume Shiny’s finally taking a damn shower. He’s been so sour since finding the broken fuel line in the Crest, which obviously isn’t a good thing so you can’t blame him for being upset anyways. His moodiness doesn’t surprise you anymore, as he spends more time sulking than he does speaking to you. But it’s fine, it’s not like you should probably get to know the man that you’re risking your life for, or anything. No, it totally doesn’t bother you that a complete stranger has complete control over almost every aspect of this mission and will refuse to communicate basic things to you at all. It’s fine, everything’s fine. You just need to lay down and pretend he’s not even here, just for a minute. Yes, just a minute.

…

Many minutes must’ve passed since you laid your head down because the sound of the bathroom door sliding open wakes you. Shiny emerges from the bathroom, the hot steam from the fresher sticking to his beskar armor. He sure does have a knack for  _ always  _ waking you up, doesn’t he? You groan and roll over on your side, trying your best to ignore him, but his boots against the ground makes it too difficult to fall back asleep again. You force your heavy lids open to see Mando settling in the tiny, lumpy arm chair as if he were trying to get some rest. You roll your eyes at his stubbornness and sit up on the bed.

“For fuck’s sake, just sleep in the damn bed. I’m going to go shower anyways,” you huff, getting up off of the bed and heading towards the bathroom. You hear a sigh escape through the modulator and you can assume the rustling is him getting into the bed...fully armored? Whatever. You could care less, you just want to get clean. You palm the controls to the door, locking it behind you and sigh, finally having some time to yourself. The steam from Shiny’s shower still hangs in the air and the mirror is fogged as a result. You punch in the settings for the shower and watch as water begins rushing out of the showerhead. After stripping out of your gear, you step into the fresher, huffing in contentment when the warm water rushes over your body. You wished you could stay like this forever, free of any outside stressors like Mando, or the trauma from working for Wraak. It’s like an impenetrable bubble that you’re allowed for just a few brief moments while you clean yourself. You hope that Mando is still asleep by the time you’re done because you want to avoid stepping on his toes any further, and if you inadvertently wake him up, you might get yourself yelled at by him again for the millionth time. You’d give anything to have an actual conversation with him, but every time you speak it seems like it causes some issue with him and upsets him in some way. So you’ve resigned to just shutting up for a while, ignoring him when you can, and doing your best to not make any more jokes around him. It’s been working so far, but it feels weird. Here you are, risking your lives for each other, and you both barely speak. You just wish that you could get at least a small look into what he was thinking; how does he feel without his kid? Is the kid dead? Does he think the kid’s dead? You want to help ease his mind, but his emotions have been so volatile since you’ve met him. He would never let you close enough to even try and crack his shell open, no, you’d most definitely die trying. 

You turn the water off in the fresher, wringing out your hair before stepping out with a fluffy white towel wrapped around your body. Tightening the towel around your breast, you wipe some of the steam off of the mirror with your hand. The bruise on your jaw looked pretty awful, and it was still tender to the touch. It looked nasty, how has Shiny not said anything about it? You shake your head and begin putting your clothes back on, your hair twisted up into a towel atop your head. Once dressed, you try and tackle your hair...but there’s no comb anywhere in this bathroom. You curse to yourself as you try and comb through your hair with just your fingers, but you give up soon and just pull it back lazily into a braid; not really caring to try anything more complicated. Maker, all you want right now is to climb into bed and fall asleep, but Mando is probably asleep and it would be, well, weird to just climb right in next to him as if you two were a domestic couple. But that chair definitely seems worse to sleep in than the floor of the Crest, and why would you subject yourself to that torture? You’ve been bouncing back and forth, toying with the notion, but mostly wondering if he would be upset with you for doing it. Do...Mandalorians not like sharing beds? Is that a thing? Whatever, he can yell at you after you both get some rest. You palm the controls to the door and it slides open with a whoosh, as far as you can tell, Shiny doesn’t budge. He’s laying on his back fully armored without a blanket or anything, like a lunatic, sleeping soundly. You tiptoe, as best as you can, around to the left side of the bed and slide in next to him with your back facing Shiny, not even bothering to try and pull the covers over you in fear of disturbing him. You can’t even hear him breathing, the only indication of his presence being the slight dip in his side of the bed from his weight. You’re becoming paranoid now that you’ll nudge him accidentally in your sleep and startle him awake, causing him to unleash a slew of annoyed remarks. The anxiety kept you up for longer than you’d like to admit, which is irritating considering you’re  _ finally  _ able to sleep in a bed but you can’t because a walking, talking harbinger of death is sleeping next to you. You’re not sure how, but you managed to lull yourself to sleep through the impending doom of Mando’s wrath.

…

A scream rang through the small room, jerking you awake with a startled flinch. You still remained facing the wall, not Shiny, thankfully. There was movement on the other side of the bed as you felt Mando move. Your eyes remained fixed on the wall, trying to gauge how he was feeling about you sleeping next to him, if he had even noticed. But he was silent. It worried you, so you rolled over and sat up in the bed to see Mando’s feet slung over the side of the bed as his eyes remain fixed on the floor. He must’ve been the one whose scream woke you up. What should you say? It’s not like he’ll tell you what’s wrong if you ask him. Still not sure if he’s noticed you’re awake now, you wait a few moments to see if he’ll do anything else. But he remains fixed on the floor, his shoulders rising and falling as, you assume, he’s trying to catch his breath again.

“Are you alright?” you finally inquire, your voice slightly hoarse from your sleep. He doesn’t say anything, hardly acknowledges you’ve even broken the silence. You feel like you’re walking on eggshells, trying not to blow his fuse by overstepping any of his million boundaries. He seems stuck, like he’s spiraling out of control silently. You lift your hand and hesitantly bring it to his shoulder, right above his pauldron. You gingerly place your hand there and wait for him to react, when he doesn’t, you gently move your thumb over the fabric of his undershirt so lightly you were sure he couldn’t even notice. 

“Your kid will be fine. You have my word,” you assure him gently. While you weren’t sure what exactly Wraak wanted with his kid, you’re secure in knowing that Wraak will explore all of his options before killing a child in cold blood. From Shiny’s stress, you can assume that this kid isn’t just your average child, he must be of some value to Wraak or else he wouldn’t have gone out of his way to have taken him. Mando’s helmet cranes behind him to get a better look at you and he locks on you for a moment. You offer him a sympathetic closed-mouth grin, feeling more comfortable than you’d thought you’d be with his helmet fixed on you for so long. You pull your hand away and settle back on your side, facing the wall so you don’t have to remember that the Mandalorian is sleeping next to you. But it doesn’t seem to bother you as much as it did before when you wake up the next morning with your arm draped over his chest and your cheek nestled into his arm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you all enjoyed this one!! yes, i did love teasing you all at the end hehe. things will happen, slowly but surely, be PATIENT PADAWANS!!


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